Dress Sense
The Problem Is You! Pg 1













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People and their problems, eh? Who'd have 'em? In fact, who'd have people? But enough of the misanthropy, already.

It would be an idea to get into the mood for this page by listening to the Sex Pistols' "Problems." Go on then!

OK, got yourself all worked up? Now, when I set up Dress Sense in Summer 2000 I asked John Lydon to host my problem page for trannies, celebrities who leg-fuck vague ideas about 'androgyny' like red-dicked dogs in an attempt to appear cool, and indeed, any other pop-therapy junkies desperate for any kind of publicity (stand up, all of Great Britain). I'm delighted to say he accepted the invitation with relish.

What follows on these problem pages is a selection of the letters which we have received over the past eighteen months or so. And if you're thinking of writing in yourself, please do so, but remember: the problem is YOU! And whatcha gonna do?
















Dear John,

Has anybody seen my knockers?

I am writing to your page, John, to appeal for the return of my lucky charms, which fell out of the top of my frock one day and rolled down the street, never to be seen again. Harry, my darling puppy, chased them for me, but at one point they split up and started going in different directions, and it really confused the poor love. He just sat on the floor, span around a few times and then had a shite, which I stepped in. I ruined a pair of Vicky Lee designer mules (800 knicker a shoe) and had to buy another five pairs from her just in case Harry gets the trots again.

But it's a different kind of pair I'm concerned with, John. You know, John, don't you John, how many good causes I've championed over the years, from Girl Power to Thatcherism to Blairism to Anti-Breast Cancerism? Hell, I even did a charity gig recently for those freaks at the Way Out Club. Man, they're some funny looking birds. Anyway, now I'm going to use my Media Platform to champion my own cause for once.

People of the world! Every boy and every girl! Find the Halliwell Two!

Some of you may have noticed that I have lost weight recently. I look great don't I, John? Don't I? Hello? Anyway, this has nothing to do with the disappearence of my magic muffins. The truth is, my Bristols have always been like this. This is confession time, John.... Go on Geraldine, girl, you can do it....

Okay. Since the Spice Girls began I have been boosting my bosoms with Martine Rose's famous "Boobs". Martine is a designer from Dronfield, Milan. These bouncers are heavy duty balloons which Martine fills with wallpaper paste or something (LET'S HOPE IT'S NOT 'SOMETHING' ELSE -JL) and then sells through her international style magazine, Repartee. (By the way, my new single, "Hot Lesbian Summer", is free with the next issue.)

These babies look like real joke jugs in their naked form, but, being a creative sort, I decorated them to look exactly like the real things, with veins, hairs, moles, and stick-on aureole (I always had a jar of Tesco's Finest olives as part of my rider in case a nipple fell off). They became so realistic, once I had worn them in, that I know I will never be able to recreate the effect.

I realise this is not the sort of problem you normally deal with, John, but I know you'll help, beacause you're a great person. John. Please hurry. I need my fucking tits back, all right?

Geri Halliwell, Watford
















This is not a fakkin Lost & Found page, you know. I am genuinely concerned for you, though, Geri. You look poorly. Get some pie'n'liqour dahn yer girl! I've seen more meat on a Cokcney sparrer.

The trouble is, all I can think about now is what Ms Rose might have used to fill her "Boobs" with. I wonder why they go mouldy so quickly? My Nora's been using them for years. Steve Jones as well.

God, I'm gonna have to get my mind off this - I'm off for a sing song rahnd the old Joanna. Talk amongst yersleves, you pieces of shit....
-JL